not part of the plan, Win—” Carl started to protest. The girl would undoubtedly be another unwanted complication.
The killer glare in Win’s eyes stopped him cold. “I think she’ll be an asset.”
“OK.” Carl would leave Win-management up to Dennis. How much trouble could one girl be? It wasn’t like the rest of their “plan” was going off without a hitch.
Vacant-eyed, the clerk shuffled out from behind the register. Carl barely registered a tight black sweater and skinny jeans, but Win was licking his lips like she was a cheeseburger in boots. The vein in Lincoln’s temple bulged as if it could blow at any second.
They hustled out the glass doors. Sweating, Carl yanked the suffocating bandana off his face. His skin welcomed the cold February night.
He and Dennis had planned this simple holdup with no complications. Thanks to Win, who’d worked in the store for all of three weeks, they knew when the store would be holding the maximum cash load. They should have been in and out with minimum fuss and enough money to head south toward the next target, but Nut Job’s gleeful killing had changed everything.
The plan was fucked, and so was Carl.
He scanned the asphalt rectangle. As Win had said, the single security camera pointed at the entrance to the building. Two cars sat at the rear of the parking lot. The interiors were dark, overhead lights reflecting mirrorlike off the windshields, but Carl’s neck itched as if somebody were watching him. The vehicles probably belonged to the clerk and the store manager. Two employees, two cars. He was being paranoid. Win’s volatility was making him edgy.
At the curb, Dennis idled the stolen Buick. Win opened the rear door and put the girl in the back between him and Lincoln. She got in without a word, hunching over and hugging herself against the cold.
Carl jumped into the passenger seat and pointed toward the windshield with an urgent finger. “Go.”
Dennis made a calm exit from the lot, turned onto the highway, and headed north. Carl rubbed the center of his chest, where it felt like a sedan was parked. Once they switched to their own anonymous vehicle, Carl would be able to breathe.
Dennis jerked a thumb over the seat. “What’s she doing here?”
“Change of plans.” Carl stashed the sawed-off shotgun under his legs. “She’s coming with us.”
Dennis turned off the highway. “Why?”
“Win wanted her to come along.” Carl bit back his temper and the urge to point the shotgun over the seat and blow Win through the rear window. The kid had served his purpose. Carl had had enough of his erratic behavior.
“He also shot the store manager,” Lincoln added from the back.
Dennis sighed and adjusted the rearview mirror to look at his nephew. “Win, we talked about this. It’s important to follow the plan.” Disappointment weighted his voice. “We don’t need complications. We need cash.”
Win crossed his arms and sulked. “The manager was going for the panic button.”
Dennis glanced at Carl. He shook his head, and Dennis sighed. “Well, what do we do now? We can forget the next job.” They’d planned a series of small holdups, spread out in time and distance, nothing ambitious enough to attract interstate law enforcement attention. “Should we head for the border? We could be in Canada in a couple of hours.”
The Canadian border went three-quarters of the way around the state of Maine. Six hundred miles of opportunity knocked. Carl considered. “No. The state troopers will assume we’ll head for Canada or go south. We need to go in the least likely direction.”
“OK. West it is then.” Dennis slowed and turned off the highway onto a narrow, unplowed road. Packed snow crunched under the tires. “Nothing west of here but mountains, snow, and trees.”
Carl wanted to put a couple of state lines between them and the murder. Crossing jurisdictions was always prudent when evading the law.
Dennis parked behind a stand of
The killer glare in Win’s eyes stopped him cold. “I think she’ll be an asset.”
“OK.” Carl would leave Win-management up to Dennis. How much trouble could one girl be? It wasn’t like the rest of their “plan” was going off without a hitch.
Vacant-eyed, the clerk shuffled out from behind the register. Carl barely registered a tight black sweater and skinny jeans, but Win was licking his lips like she was a cheeseburger in boots. The vein in Lincoln’s temple bulged as if it could blow at any second.
They hustled out the glass doors. Sweating, Carl yanked the suffocating bandana off his face. His skin welcomed the cold February night.
He and Dennis had planned this simple holdup with no complications. Thanks to Win, who’d worked in the store for all of three weeks, they knew when the store would be holding the maximum cash load. They should have been in and out with minimum fuss and enough money to head south toward the next target, but Nut Job’s gleeful killing had changed everything.
The plan was fucked, and so was Carl.
He scanned the asphalt rectangle. As Win had said, the single security camera pointed at the entrance to the building. Two cars sat at the rear of the parking lot. The interiors were dark, overhead lights reflecting mirrorlike off the windshields, but Carl’s neck itched as if somebody were watching him. The vehicles probably belonged to the clerk and the store manager. Two employees, two cars. He was being paranoid. Win’s volatility was making him edgy.
At the curb, Dennis idled the stolen Buick. Win opened the rear door and put the girl in the back between him and Lincoln. She got in without a word, hunching over and hugging herself against the cold.
Carl jumped into the passenger seat and pointed toward the windshield with an urgent finger. “Go.”
Dennis made a calm exit from the lot, turned onto the highway, and headed north. Carl rubbed the center of his chest, where it felt like a sedan was parked. Once they switched to their own anonymous vehicle, Carl would be able to breathe.
Dennis jerked a thumb over the seat. “What’s she doing here?”
“Change of plans.” Carl stashed the sawed-off shotgun under his legs. “She’s coming with us.”
Dennis turned off the highway. “Why?”
“Win wanted her to come along.” Carl bit back his temper and the urge to point the shotgun over the seat and blow Win through the rear window. The kid had served his purpose. Carl had had enough of his erratic behavior.
“He also shot the store manager,” Lincoln added from the back.
Dennis sighed and adjusted the rearview mirror to look at his nephew. “Win, we talked about this. It’s important to follow the plan.” Disappointment weighted his voice. “We don’t need complications. We need cash.”
Win crossed his arms and sulked. “The manager was going for the panic button.”
Dennis glanced at Carl. He shook his head, and Dennis sighed. “Well, what do we do now? We can forget the next job.” They’d planned a series of small holdups, spread out in time and distance, nothing ambitious enough to attract interstate law enforcement attention. “Should we head for the border? We could be in Canada in a couple of hours.”
The Canadian border went three-quarters of the way around the state of Maine. Six hundred miles of opportunity knocked. Carl considered. “No. The state troopers will assume we’ll head for Canada or go south. We need to go in the least likely direction.”
“OK. West it is then.” Dennis slowed and turned off the highway onto a narrow, unplowed road. Packed snow crunched under the tires. “Nothing west of here but mountains, snow, and trees.”
Carl wanted to put a couple of state lines between them and the murder. Crossing jurisdictions was always prudent when evading the law.
Dennis parked behind a stand of
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